


Warlocks get sick too

by Widow_Spyder



Series: The times you were here; with me [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Fluffy-ish, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sickfic, a bit of panic, just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 10:25:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Widow_Spyder/pseuds/Widow_Spyder
Summary: John gets sick. Des takes care of him. Totally doesn't panic along the way.





	Warlocks get sick too

You’d imagine after everything John had been through, it’d be pretty hard to fall into a domestic lifestyle with another person that he admired. Moving into a new apartment with each other and getting into the “Honey, I’m home,” thing wasn’t something John thought he’d get to experience. But here he was, 3 weeks after moving into a new apartment with Des. They were both amazed at how quickly they had fallen into a comfortable routine so soon.

Des was usually the first one to wake up. Every morning, he spent a good 15 minutes laying in the silence with the warmth of John’s still sleeping body next to him. The afterglow of their nightly activities still present. Then he would get up and start making breakfast. All the while waiting for John to wake up so that they could eat together. John always slept in, which was completely alright with Des as he wanted to get John into regular sleeping habits.

But today John hadn’t gotten up when he usually did. When the smell of fried eggs and toast made its way through the kitchen and into the bedroom which would always rouse the warlock and make him get up. The restaurant Des worked at would open for lunch soon yet John was still in the bedroom. It made Des a little worried.

Maybe he’s just in the shower? Des thought. Or perhaps he’s still asleep? John did seem a little tired yesterday.

His thoughts were interrupted though as a loud sneeze rang throughout the apartment. Then another and another.

“Bless you!” Des responded, a sigh of relief flowing through him.

“Ha! Like that bastard would give a bloody thought ‘bout me.” John answered back in his usual smug attitude. Though it sounded a bit rougher to Des and the relief he felt washed away leaving uneasiness in its place.

“You ok?” Des asked, not wanting to sound as concerned as he felt.

“Just fine, luv,” John said as he entered the living room. He was dressed in his regular clothes minus the tie and trench coat but looked disheveled and weary. His cheeks were bright red, spreading all the way to the tip of his ears and his face was pale. Pale enough to make the redness stand out even more as well as the gleam of sweat on his forehead.

Des stepped towards him as John fiddled with his coat, looking for something in its pockets.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Des asked again, turning John around to look at him.

Up close, John looked even worse. His eyes were slightly red as if he hadn’t slept which was weird because he always woke up when John had nightmares or couldn’t sleep. There were no disturbances that Des could remember last night... His pupils were also slightly dilated, and he was a bit unsteady on his feet.

Then it dawned on him. John was sick -- or getting sick. Could that even happen? Des didn’t know much about magic, but he thought there was some sort of counter-spell or ritual towards viruses. It didn’t go unnoticed when John placed wards around and in their apartment after they moved in.

John shifted in the grip that Des had unknowingly put on both his arms. When had he grabbed John’s arms and why didn’t he notice sooner? John looked away for a second and then looked back, seemingly uncomfortable.

“I’m fine Des, really.” John insisted. A lie Des could see straight through. But he didn’t press it. He knew if he did, John would get defensive and do something that someone shouldn’t do when they’re sick. The best approach of action were silent gestures. So Des just warmly smiled, let go of John’s right arm and slowly led him back into the bedroom, keeping hold of his left arm for support. Once John was sat on the bed, he went to taking off John’s shirt and wrestling him out of it. Of course, John wasn’t going to make this easy. He doubted he would. 

“Really luv, I’m fine!” John urged as his shirt was tossed aside and his pants were shoved down.

“I know you are Johnny. I’ll be right back.” Des replied with the tone of someone talking to a child. John was in his boxers by then, and Des had to get him something warm to wear. He opted for sweatpants and a baggy grey t-shirt. When he returned, John was thankfully where he’d left him; on the bed, though now he was cross-legged and shivering slightly. There was an odd sound coming from his clenched hand. He was holding something that sounded like it was wrapped in plastic and small enough to be easily covered up when John closed his fist. Des recalled seeing John look for something in the pockets of his trench coat before dragging him into the bedroom.

He dropped the clothes on John’s lap and crouched down in front of him so that they were eye to eye. John stared back at him, his eyes full of determination.

“Johnny.. I love you, and I only want to help. But you have to let me. Please let me help you, Johnny.” Des pleaded, placing his hands on John’s warm cheeks and bringing himself closer to his face. John closed his eyes and looked down, made a dramatic sigh and then looked back up. 

“Well, I suppose when you put it like that...” John relinquished. Des was thankful but was also getting more worried. When it came to his health, John would never admit to anything. If he felt bad, he’d keep it to himself. For him to just agree so quickly, put Des on edge.

“Thank you,” Des said. He brought John’s face closer and kissed his forehead. The skin was clammy and hot like he’d expected. When he pulled back, he carefully opened John’s hand to reveal a small package. The white font on the label revealing the contents inside to be a honey cough drop.

So he really was going to try and handle this on his own. Des thought.

“Is your throat sore?” Des asked, placing the cough drop on the bedside cabinet.

“Only when I talk,” John mumbled as he fiddled with the clothe pile still on his lap. He was quite clearly tense about this whole thing, but as Des glanced down at the clothing, he noticed the hair on John’s arm standing up.

He wasn’t tense because he was admitting he was sick. Or maybe half of it was, but the other half was him trying not to shiver because he was cold!

“Come on. Let’s get you warm.” Des soothed. He rubbed at the tattoo on John’s shoulder before going over to the closet and getting the extra comforter that they stored in it. Once he grabbed it and shook it out a bit, he brought it back to the bed where John was now clothed and leaning against the headboard. His eyes were tightly closed as if he was in deep concentration. Des’s uneasiness levels rose even higher. John really did look awful.

Des set the comforter down and gently eased John down onto the pillow where he seemed more than happy to fall asleep right then and there.

“Johnny?” Des whispered as he started tucking in the sheets around him.

“Hmm?” John murmured back. It was almost a deep sigh, which meant that John was dropping off fast.

Des crouched down and placed his hand on John’s head; his hair was falling on his face, and Des did his best to move it out of the way.

“I have to go to work…” Des said. He really didn’t want to but he was due for rush hour soon, and he couldn’t miss it. He had already got reprimanded for missing work after one of their more _adventurous_ nights, and he wanted to keep his job. But that would mean he would have to leave his sick boyfriend alone for about 6 to 7 hours.

John’s eyes opened slightly before he took Des’s hand from his hair and held it against his chest.

“I’ll be fine, luv. Go to work.” John reassured. Though it sounded like his voice was starting to go through a cheese grater. It definitely didn’t sound like that earlier...

“Are you sure?” Des relented.

“Yes, yes, now go on.. I promise I’ll behave.” John muttered back, closing his eyes again.

Des sighed.

“Alright…” Des agreed. He took his hand out of John’s hold and placed another kiss on his forehead before closing some of the blinds on the windows and going into the kitchen. He poured a big glass of water and grabbed some Advil out of the medicine cabinet.

He should have made John take this before he was nearly asleep, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

So after helping John take the necessary pills and tucking him back in, Des stole one last glance at his sleeping boyfriend before heading out. Worry following him like a cloud.

**********

Needless to say, the worry feeling didn’t subside, and he ended up going home before his night shift even started. Thankfully Des’ manager agreed to let him go after he explained that his loved one had suddenly gotten sick and that he was worried. It wasn’t a lie. Des couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was going wrong. So he left and nearly broke out into a dead sprint towards their apartment.

He backtracked when he passed a convenience store and decided to buy some supplies before returning. Just the basic stuff. Natural honey cough syrup, ibuprofen, a thermometer, and some sort of fever patch? You’re supposed to place it on a person's forehead to reduce their fever. Whatever that means. Des was in too much of hurry to really try and understand the science of it. With supplies in tow, Des made his way back to the apartment.

**********

As soon as he unlocked the door, Des made a beeline for the bedroom. The sight that greeted him explained the reason he had a bad feeling.

John had gotten worse. He was turned on his side away from the doorway and Des’s panicked face. John. Was. _Shaking_. The sheets -- or what was left of them as most had been kicked to the floor -- were soaked with sweat. He breathed out of his mouth which sounded raspy and painful.

Des was at the bed before he even knew he took a step. Damn it! He should’ve never gone into work that day!

He turned John on his back and picked the sheets back up, placing them on the end of the bed. To Des’ surprise, John opened his eyes a little and turned to look at him.

“ -ou’re bak…” John strained. The words were barely understandable. Not even a second later he broke out into rough coughs.

“Shh. Don’t speak. I have medicine I want you to take, and then you can go back to sleep, alright?” Des said as he rubbed John’s chest.

John nodded as Des got out the fever patches and thermometer from the bag he was holding. He stuck the newly bought thermometer into his mouth and waited for it to beep. Once it did, Des took it from John’s mouth and looked at the reading. 103.2. That wasn’t good. He opened the box of patches and placed one on John’s forehead. John breathed a sigh of relief as the cold swept over his overheated skin.

“Shit, you’re burning up.,” Des muttered to himself. It was times like these that Des really wished he knew what to do. Perhaps he would know what to do if it weren’t for the sheer panic he felt.

Come on, think! Medicine. He needs medicine. Des thought. He got out the cough syrup and ibuprofen he bought and read the instructions. To his dilemma, they both said not to take with other substances. So he had to choose between giving him cough syrup or ibuprofen.

He ended up going with the ibuprofen. Though John was not too eager to get up or even move, he’d managed and downed the pills.

“I’m going to go make something for you to eat, ok?” Des said. He turned around and started for the door, but a cold hand curled around his own and prevented him from going.

“Don’t. Don’t go.. Not again.” John cried. Des felt like he’d been punched.

“I’m not - I’m not going anywhere, Johnny. I’m still here. I’ll just be in the kitchen, making you some food.” Des consoled as he held John’s hand with both of his hands. It was truly terrifying to see him like this. The fierce demon slayer, John Constantine was on the verge of tears because he thought Des was going to leave him alone. Granted, it could be the fever that was making him like this.

“No. want you.. Here.” John whined. This was going to be difficult. While John needed something in his stomach, Des didn’t want to leave him alone. He wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

“Ok, then let’s compromise,” Des said, lifting John off the bed and slowly walking to the couch in the living room. He helped John settle on the couch and pushed his damp hair out of his face.

“I’m going to be in the kitchen, making some soup, alright? I won’t be far away. Is that ok?”

“Mmm, I love you.” John giggled in his wacky feverish state of mind. Des smiled and went to the kitchen, hearing John’s soft snores in the background.

He decided to look up what to do on his phone. He had the basic knowledge of what to do when someone was sick. I mean who didn't? But he wanted to know if there was anything else he could do besides making sure John ate and slept.

Eventually, he found a recipe for a vegetable broth that was titled “Miracle Soup Cure for Anyone with the Flu.” That would work. He set out, getting the vegetables from their fridge and boiling them in hot water with some salt and other ingredients.

The soup had been simmering for about 20 minutes when Des heard a strangled cry from the other side of the room. Dropping everything, Des rushed to the couch where John was rapidly shaking his head as sweat dripped off his forehead.

It was a fever dream, Des concluded. Or a regular dream. He wasn’t too sure. Unlike a lot of people who’ve been through a lot, John learned how to tame himself into not making a fuss when his nightmares plagued him. But it took a lot of effort which is why he preferred to sleep less and stay awake. But with the fever and the hazy mind, John didn’t seem to have the capability or strength to keep up the image. Soon descending into a shaking and crying out mess.

It broke Des’s heart when John’s movements got so violent that he was forced to hold him down and wake him up before he hurt himself. It took what felt like an eternity, but John finally opened his glazed eyes, stopped moving and started to breath normal again. Or as normal as a person with the flu could manage.

By this point, Des was freaking out. Whispering soothing things into John’s ear as he held his head and rocked back and forth. He couldn’t tell whether the reassurances he was whispering were for John or him. Though they seemed to help as he too calmed down a bit and let go of John’s head, replacing it with his hand.

John looked exhausted but didn’t seem to want to go back to sleep. He just stared ahead with half-lidded eyes as he held Des’s hand. Des felt so helpless. He wanted to help, to ease the pain he knew John was feeling but he didn’t know how.

Maybe a doctor! A doctor would know what to do. The only problem was that the doctor was a bit of a way away from their apartment. They definitely wouldn’t be able to walk there.

A taxi maybe? That could work.

“Johnny, we’re going to a doctor, and I don’t want to hear any arguing.” Des knew John hated going to the E.R. or anyplace with doctors but now wasn’t the time for that “I can take care of myself logic.”

So Des bundled John up in one of the fluffy blankets, turned off the heat to the forgotten soup on the stove and set to work making their way down to the street. John didn’t say a word.

**********

To say Des was mad was an understatement. They had easily hailed down a cab and were brought to the nearest doctor’s office. The whole while, the cab driver looked back at them weirdly from the rearview mirror. Des just stared back at him every time. His boyfriend was sick and if he thought that snuggling up into Des’s shoulder, wrapped up in a somewhat fuzzy blanket while he was taken to the doctor made him feel better than by all means Des would take it.

John, of course, wasn’t conscious to see any of this as he had fallen asleep on Des’s shoulder the moment the car started moving.

Once they got to the doctor's office, they had to wait nearly an hour before a nurse finally called their names. Then after another hour of the doctor asking dozens of questions, running the necessary tests, and overall being absent from the room for the longest time, it was concluded that John had a particularly bad strain of a flu virus.

AS IF HE DIDN’T KNOW THAT ALREADY!

John was completely delirious the whole time. He leaned on Des’s chest and shoulder, his eyes half open, while the doctor probed him with different instruments and tools. Finally, the doctor prescribed him some medicine, and they were out of there. Another taxi was hailed, and they were brought back to their apartment.

They were almost to the bathroom where Des planned to give him a bath, when John finally spoke again. The last time being when Des had woken him up from the nightmare.

“-ait.. Wait. I - I need to sit -- down. John huffed as his body started to go limp in Des’s hold. Des just maneuvered his arm under John’s legs, picked him up and carried him the rest of the way there.

He set him down on the toilet and started a hot bath. The steam steadily rose as Des undressed him for the second time that day and helped him into the hot water. The heat of the room and water should help clear John’s airways just enough so that he could breathe a little better.

At this point, Des was following everything the internet told him to do when someone had the flu. Sweat a lot. Check. Drink plenty of fluids. He had vegetable broth cooking on the stove, and they had camomile packets that he could make tea with. He would make John drink both of those after the bath. Get plenty of rest. John was more asleep today than awake, so Des checked that box. 

For now, Des grabbed a small cup and began washing out the stickiness from John’s hair. The task becoming harder when John kept moving his head to lean against Des’s shoulder. He couldn’t tell whether John was falling asleep in the bathtub or if he liked Des’s fingers scratching at his scalp and was urging him to continue.

After the bath, Des wrapped John up in a towel, and they slowly walked to the bedroom. John didn’t have to lean as much on Des as before which was a good sign. He was even able to dress himself and climb into bed on his own.

It was a surprise to say the least, since not even an hour before, John could barely stay awake in the cab drive home.

“ ‘s a healing spell.” John murmured as he peaked his head out from the mountain covering him.

“A healing spell?” Des whispered, spreading out the blankets so that John wouldn’t suffocate.

“While you were at work… ‘s supposed to work over a period.. o’ time. 24 hours…price wasn’t that high.”

“Price?” Des asked. He didn't like the sound of that. 

“To work. Spell needed time to go through. Made symptoms more, pronounced..” John waved his hand a little before gesturing for Des to come on the bed.

“M’not contagious..” John added, noticing Des’s hesitance. He compiled and climbed into the bed next to him. John moved closer and snuggled up into Des’s chest, pressing his face against his shirt. Des wrapped his arms around him and pulled the sheets up higher.

“So that’s why you were so out of it?” Des asked.

“Mmhm… Sorry for worrying you.” John apologized.

“It’s alright... I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“Should be right as rain tomorrow, luv.” John sniffed, burying his head further up into Des's neck. 

“Good.” Des sighed. He stroked the side of John’s face, running his fingers up and down the stubble on his chin, going over and behind his ear and scratching his scalp.

“Don’ stop…” John tiredly mumbled. Des hummed in response.

“Feels good.”

“I know. Go to sleep, Johnny.” Des said, kissing John’s freshly washed hair. He never did get him to drink the broth in the kitchen or the tea he was planning to make. Not that it mattered anymore. Des decided to let the spell do its work. He was exhausted and right now, sleeping sounded like a great idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note:
> 
> Another fanfic down! This was also a lot longer than I initially wanted it but I can't do anything about it now. Hope it's still ok. :)
> 
> Next weeks fanfic called "Stories that paint your skin" coming soon.


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